I should have known back when the kids were babies. I just should have known.
They were such good sleepers. I mean, for a little perspective, I will tell you this. All three of the kids were sleeping through the night by 8 weeks. I was given a lovely 12-6am stretch every single night. Of course, good sleepers meant shitty nappers, but that’s a story for another day. But I should have known that all this would come back to bite me in the ass. I have talked about the fact that Miss Emily does.not.sleep. before. many times.
and now…she’s got herself a partner in insomniac crime.
this is Josh, circa 1am. on a school night. Dude is reading an entire book every night. Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing. SuperFudge. Fudge-a-Mania. The Mouse and the Motorcycle. Runaway Ralph, Ralph S. Mouse. He is plowing through one every night. Which, yes, I realize is ridiculously impressive because a) he is SIX and b) he is a boy. You don’t have to work in children’s publishing (like I do) to know that lots of boys are reluctant readers. not my boy.
he’s a reluctant sleeper.
(Also? I have run out of book ideas. anyone?)
and now…they’ve got themselves another partner.
oh yes, you guessed it. TRIFECTA.
Miss Isabella is obsessed with Magic School Bus. Her obsession has reached the point where she toddles (can you still toddle at age 4??) into my room at 4am, crawls up onto my bed and says, “my clock says 7, can I watch Magic School Bus?” and since both the husband and I are SLEEPING (a novel concept, I realize…) we turn on an episode for her. and then another one. and then another one. and then another one. Until we realize that her clock may have said 7…but it is most like 4:17 than 7:00 and she’s watched 6 episodes of the show.
(and don’t get me started on the state of Miss Frizzle’s camel toe and when she says things like “so, this is what a tossed salad feels like!”)
So, this not sleeping thing is becoming a problem. Because in the mornings, I have to dress a sleeping child. Or I have to throw him into the shower, and even that doesn’t always work. He is a nightmare in the mornings. He can’t get all of his shit together in time to eat breakfast, and then he whines and cries because he’s hungry. He can’t muster enough energy to put his shoes on. He can’t muster enough energy to even locate his shoes. or his kippah. or his hoodie. good times, I say!
and Isabella…well, she becomes a nightmare in the afternoon, right after school. On Wednesday I took her to see my Grandma at her nursing home. Yes, Naomi, I know it’s not PC. She was delightful. She helped us take my Grandma’s sweater off so they could give her a flu shot. She sang some lovely songs to her and got her to smile, something that we rarely see these days.
she even posed for me.
but then we got into the car. and she started screaming
“Stop talking! You are hurting my ears! It’s too noisy! I want candy! I want a drink! Can I have gum? I am so hungry! STOP TALKING! Are we home yet? I want some oreos! stop talking, ZOMG! I want gum!”
oh. my. god.
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